...
What cold shocking return to the land where I unwillingly understand strangers in public, where I can order a large and finish it at peril to my health, where televisions and SUVs reign supreme. Frozen to the tip of the longest freshwater lake in the world, living comfortably amongst these half-civilized winter apes, I'm home.
Plowing through the snowbanks while driving on my perfect grid of county roads, reminiscence of warm Mediterranean nights draws my mind elsewhere. I push through this phase like a car accident victim in slow recovery, biding his time at the hospital; "will he ever walk again?"
I have suffered a profound strike to my pride by my own hand. Egos concerned, there are fates worse than destitution and loneliness. Return is the cardinal sin. And like a wave lapping up minerals it stretches out in its futile jump ashore, I'm a salty corsair in a fresh water pond.
Sister, brother, father: enjoy me. Here is my great intermission:
